


Planting Seeds

by lostlilsnail



Series: Striking Down Roots [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: At least all of this sap goes with the tree motif???, Basically just talking, Comfort, F/F, Romance, Seriously sap for miles, They're both just incredibly insecure okay?, a whooooole lot of talking, this is cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 04:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlilsnail/pseuds/lostlilsnail
Summary: After taking down the ultimate evil, Emma and Regina get ready for bed.A short epilogue to Striking Down Roots.





	Planting Seeds

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly just Emma and Regina having one long, disgusting conversation so heads up if that isn't your jam.

Outside, the world is quiet. Emma leans against the wall and watches from the window. Her gaze tracks the slight breeze as it rustles through the trees before falling across the street where one of the Crawford children is bundled up on the front porch, miserable in the cold while they wait for the family dog to relieve itself one last time before bed. Streetlights reflect off the snow, making the world feel bright even as late as it is, and Emma smiles as she observes the soft simplicity of it all.

Behind her, the door creaks and she turns to find Henry poking his head in from the hall.

"I think I'm gonna pack it in." He's less wary than he was yesterday, and the day before, and even earlier than that. Every second they slip closer to what they once were.

Emma is the hold up, Regina seems sure. Henry is ready. Henry has been ready.

He never wasn't.

It's hard to explain to Regina that her reassurances are so comforting they make it hard to believe they're true. Hearing exactly what you want all of the time...it seeds doubt. Makes everything so much harder to accept.

There _should_ be distance between Emma and Henry after everything that happened. It _should_ be difficult for them to move past.

If there isn't, if it isn't, well, then the world doesn't quite make sense.

More than anything, Emma needs her world to make sense right now.

"Night, kid." Her voice is slightly hoarse from disuse. Too many long days locked away from everyone who can't wait to tell her how happy they are she's back.

Back at home. Back to work. Back to normal. 

Henry studies her for a moment, head tilt, then he takes a breath and steps fully inside the room. The way he approaches her before the hug is cautious, a little hesitant, but when his arms are firmly wrapped around her middle he seems to lose any self-consciousness. Henry leans into her fully and hangs on tight, his head resting against her chest.

"I love you." He says it so much more now than he ever has before.

Emma swallows hard. She knows what he's doing, knows how Snow has sounded the rally cry to all her close friends and family, but she doesn't have the heart to explain to any of them how much worse they’re making this. Say it when you want to say it, she wants to tell him. Forcing it so often just feels like-

But that would just be ungrateful now, wouldn't it?

Determined to be better than she is, Emma returns the embrace and drops her chin to the top of his head. "Love you too."

When he finally pulls back, his smile is wide. "I bet if we work together and are, like, _extra cute_ , we can charm some bacon out of her tomorrow morning."

She laughs. "I can get in on that plan."

He holds up his fist for her to bump with her own, and it feels more like them than anything else.

This part-

This part's real. 

Henry turns back for the door. "Night, Mom," he calls towards the bathroom on his way out.

"Wait a minute." Regina emerges and puts a swift halt to his escape. She's in her robe, head slightly bent as she towels off her damp hair. "Did you get your bag together for tomorrow like I asked?"

Emma has to press her lips together to stifle her amusement when his features contort. His face betrays his struggle as he decides whether lying or bargaining will better suit him in this particular instance.

Apparently, he settles on the latter.

"I'll do it in the morning. I'll have plenty of time."

Regina hums. "I've heard that before." She straightens to study their son, eyebrows raised. "And what always happens?"

The innocent grin Henry flashes her is nearly too big for his face. "I put my bag together in a timely, orderly fashion and head off to school like the ideal child?"

"Henry."

Emma will never be over how Regina does that. So much content--amusement and gentle warning and authority and love, always so much love--in just his name.

His shoulders droop as he heaves an over dramatic sigh, "I whine over breakfast until you do it for me."

"Every time." Regina tosses her towel into the hamper by the dresser and steps forward to press a kiss to Henry's forehead. "Go on."

" _Fiiiine_." Henry drags out the word as if shoving a couple binders into a backpack is the hardest thing anyone's ever been forced to do in the history of the world.

"Good boy," Regina calls after him even though he slowly trudges out and melodramatically groans as he tugs the door closed behind him.

"Back to school is never easy, huh?" Emma prompts as soon as they're alone. She doesn't really have memories of her own to reflect on, but what she'd once borrowed from Regina is fresh in her mind. Years of Henry moaning and whining and doing all he could to escape the dreaded prison of structured learning.

Regina's smile is fond. "I have my fingers crossed for next year."

"From what I hear it only gets worse as they get older."

"Like hell our son is going to fit into any cliched molds." Emma laughs and Regina, seemingly sensing the tension behind the sound, reaches out for her. Emma instinctively moves close as though drawn by a magnetic force. "You need to relax," Regina soothes, taking Emma's hands in her own. 

"Sorry." Emma all but chokes on the word. Clearing her throat, she tries again. "I'm kind of antsy."

"I can tell." A wicked smirk steals Regina's lips. "The first sleepover is always a little scary. Do you need me to call your mother to come pick you up?"

Emma snorts. "You know she'd freak out if she knew you were picking on me right now, yeah? You'd never be allowed to babysit again."

"Heaven forbid."

Emma manages to release her naturally when Regina pulls away to return to the bathroom. Somehow.

Indulging in a deep, steadying breath, Emma moves to sit on the bed, right on the edge of the mattress. It still doesn't feel right to make herself fully comfortable here when Regina's not in the immediate vicinity. Not yet.

So instead of leaning back and getting comfortable, Emma sits, straight-backed, and listens to Regina brush her teeth. Maybe it's a small thing, but the sound is enough to soothe the high fluttering that's been in her chest since she arrived for dinner a few hours earlier.

A peek behind the curtain. A preview of all the vulnerabilities that might be afforded if only she's good enough to get this to stick.

Her hands rest on her knees, fingers curling into tight fists until her nails press into her skin. "You know, this kind of actually is my first sleepover," Emma says quickly to put a halt on that train of thought before it can pick up any steam and pile more anxieties onto the night than she's already suffering through. "Jokes aside."

There's a pause for a time. Some shuffling in the bathroom while Regina cleans up and shuts everything down before at last emerging, a wry smile on her face. "Really?"

Emma shrugs. "Never made good enough friends with anyone as a kid to have a classic one. And I'd say the adult ones don't count if I didn't make it to breakfast."

"Ah," Regina's laughter is warm and low, "well that's a different sort of sleepover all together."

She moves to the dresser and Emma instinctively drops her gaze when Regina begins to change into her pajamas. Eyes firmly planted on the floor, she hums. "Do you wanna know something I've been thinking about?"

Regina doesn't hesitate. "Of course." 

"Looking back, I'm pretty sure the healthiest relationship I've ever been in is the fake one I was conned into with that flying monkey man."

Regina stills, and without so much as glancing up, Emma knows she's struggling.

"It's all right," she allows, her own lips quirking up at the corners, "you're allowed to laugh."

It's a quiet, short sound. Jarring at the end where Regina quickly attempts to stifle it, as though ashamed. "I'm sorry."

"It is what it is." Emma raises her eyes when she hears Regina approach, fully dressed once more. Her pajamas consist of an actual set, sleek and comfortable, and Emma shifts in her old, thinning shorts, a ratty T-shirt stretched out and off center on her shoulders.

Regina moves in front of Emma, stands between her legs and rests her hands on Emma’s shoulders. "What about Neal?"

Emma leans forward to drop her forehead against Regina's abdomen. "Neal was a lot of things to me." She brings her arms up to wrap around Regina's hips, keeping her close as her eyes fall shut. "Healthy definitely wasn't one of them."

"I see." It feels absent, how Regina's fingers find her hairline, nails lightly scraping along her scalp in a way that makes Emma hum.

All but nuzzling into the warmth of her stomach, Emma sighs. "Are we gonna be healthy?"

There's a lightness to Regina's voice when she responds. A pleasant, bubbling mirth. "I hope so."

"Me too."

Regina's fingers move through her hair with more purpose, a deliberate massage. "We're off to a good start, I think."

Emma's shoulders shake as she snorts against her. "Oh, you mean because of all that time I've spent fantasizing about brutally murdering you?" She looks up at Regina then, sits on the edge of the mattress and holds her and grins like it's all just a dumb joke. And as she pretends to wait for Regina to laugh, she searches for the truth they've been ignoring.

She searches for Regina's fear. Her wariness. Her distrust.

Anger, even.

But Regina just rolls her eyes and says, "Please, little more than foreplay," in a very haughty, bored sort of voice.

Emma swallows and resigns herself to playing the part. Goofy. Happy. Healed. "Sometimes you still really scare me, you know."

Smirking, Regina taps her on the nose. "Good." She takes a step back and reaches for Emma's hands to tug her to her feet. "You're on my side. Move."

"Yes, Ma'am." 

Settling down on a proper bed--Regina's bed in her house where she lives with their son--doesn't feel real. There's no wind battered tent flapping around them. No stars above, twinkling as they slap at the mosquitoes making meals of them through the night. No creaky hospital bed, so small that one wrong move might send them toppling over the side.

Everything for so long has been so urgent. Now or never. The last time. The final shot. Farewell and goodbye forever. 

Now, suddenly, the promise of waking to chaos and uncertainty in the morning is gone. It will just be them, side by side, nothing pressing urging them out of bed save for breakfast or seeing their son off to school or a mundane day at the office.

Now, suddenly, they're real. Together. At last.

And being real with Regina has been a pipe dream for so long Emma isn't sure she knows how to properly live it.

Regina gets settled in for the night and Emma mimics her on the other side of the mattress. Stiff. Robotic. A shudder runs through her as she pulls the comforter up to her chin. She thinks, some months ago, before everything, she might have made a joke just then. A, "You've been holding out on me," or a, "I can't believe you never let me in here before," or even a, "I hope you know this mattress is now the main reason I'll be dating you," if she was feeling particularly cheeky.

Instead she lays flat on her back and stares up at the ceiling.

"Okay if I turn out the light?" Regina already has her hand on the switch.

"Yeah."

The darkness blankets them, and Emma blinks a few times, doing her best to adjust until she can make out the shapes around her once more. The bedside table where the lamp sits. The dresser and the line of picture frames across the top. The hamper. The closet door. Regina.

Regina who shifts beside her, rolls onto her side and moves close. "Easy," she soothes, understanding even when Emma stiffens at the hand on her arm.

"I'm sorry," Emma manages, voice thick. Soupy. The words are for Regina, but they seem to falter in the air and seep back into Emma instead. Bleed into her skin until they're fully absorbed and pricking at the backs of her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"There's no reason."

Regina keeps saying stuff like that. Keeps insisting. Keeps pushing.

Pushing like Emma never-

She rolls over onto her side as well. Studies Regina in the dark. They've been like this now so many times. Close. Side by side. More times than Emma ever dared to imagine possible. But this is the first time-

Emma reaches out at the revelation. Hungry. Greedy. She traces her fingers along Regina's cheek. The slope of her neck. The curve of her shoulder. The line where her shirt dips across her chest. One long tentative journey down the right side and then back up the left. Everything she's allowed now, Emma soaks in. Desperate and more than a little clingy. Ready to take whatever Regina is willing to give because now, at last, they're alone. Truly and fully. Utterly alone. And she just-

She remembers what it's like to want to wrap her fingers around Regina's throat. To want to squeeze the life out of her. To watch the light in her eyes flicker away until they are empty. Beautiful, soulless glass.

Her stomach churns, her guilt blurs her vision, and all she wants to do is run even when the only thing she can imagine right now is pulling Regina close and never letting go. Because she's supposed to be fucking _free_ , goddammit. She's supposed to be free and none of any of this was worth fucking anything if she's not allowed to hold Regina now because of the remnants of some stupid fucking fairy tale curse that doesn't even exist anymore.

"Hey." Regina tugs her in with an impossible dichotomy of tenderness and power that has Emma go limp against her in response. She makes no complaint about the tears staining her skin when Emma buries her face into her neck. "Stay with me, huh?"

Emma shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut tight. She clings to Regina, breathing her in, in, in.

"They're gone now, aren't they?" Regina asks like she already knows the answer.

And she does, but this question is clearly more for Emma's peace of mind than hers anyway.

Just like most everything these days.

"Yes." It's embarrassing how much like a child Emma feels. Wrapped around a grown woman and weeping against her neck.

"Talk to me." It's the strained note of Regina's voice that has her heart aching.

Emma just shakes her head and clings tighter. So many desires had filled her mind. Urges she'd never consented to. But now she can't imagine even _imagining_ harming Regina. All those images that had been forced into her mind, her heart, her muscles that screamed at her to act...

"It's just hard not to remember...everything." She pulls back a bit and brings up a hand. The pad of her thumb brushes briefly across Regina's throat, featherlight. "There are some things I don't know I'll be able to get out of my head."

"Gold said it was like that for him too at first." Regina curls forward until her forehead gently bumps Emma's. "How do you feel about talking to Archie again?"

"I probably should."

"I don't mean to pressure you.” 

"I know." Emma forces a bit of levity into her voice. "I've been thinking about it too. Don't worry."

"You've already come a long way, especially considering what a short time it has been."

Emma smirks. "Yeah, but you always think stuff like that about me."

"I'm allowed." Regina sounds almost haughty about it and the fondness that blooms in Emma's chest is enough to overwhelm her.

“I-”

She's quickly distracted though when her phone pings on the table beside her.

"Oh my god," Emma groans. "Nonstop, seriously." Reluctantly, she untangles herself from Regina and flops over on the mattress to confirm the fact that it is indeed Snow White messaging her with declarations of love and incessant questions on her well being. "It's literally a goodnight text. She knows I'm in my thirties, right?"

Regina's laugh is deep and warm. She moves up behind Emma to peer over her shoulder at the phone. "Let her fuss. We're all very determined to go full steam on Operation Smother Emma with Affection."

Emma snorts. "I'm guessing Snow was allowed to name it?"

"Henry was wildly offended by how on the nose it was.

"Well," Emma sighs and tosses the phone back onto the bedside table after typing out a quick response, "I guess it's at least the least annoying operation I've ever been forced into. That's something."  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"What?" Emma flops over to face Regina, brow furrowed before realization dawns. "Mongoose?" Even in the dark she can't help but roll her eyes. "Oh right, yeah, I loved the 'hook your crush back up with her soulmate' operation. How could I forget?"  
  
"We were trying to find the author."  
  
"Sure we were." Though Regina scoffs, Emma can hear her amusement, and she just can't help herself. "Remember when you spent all your time whining like, 'oh boo hoo, nobody likes me,' and now you've got so many soulmates clinging to your legs you can barely walk?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
Underneath her posturing, Emma knows Regina likes the idea of being genuinely desired. Sought after. Not out of arrogance, but novelty. Something Regina had assumed lost to her after so many long years disgusting even herself.

Even as she laments the wasted time, Emma knows her months spent pining tickle Regina, and she can't bring herself to resent that.  
  
When it comes from such a lonely place, Emma's happy to stroke her ego as often as possible. Because Regina could have the biggest head in all the realms and Emma's certain she'd still never come close to comprehending just how much she means.  
  
Regina shifts to snuggle close again. They get resettled, curled tightly around each other.  
  
"Is it okay to say I'm happy that particular operation fell through?" Emma murmurs.  
  
Regina hums. "I consider it a success." Her hands find their way behind Emma and under her shirt.  
  
Emma shivers when cold palms press against her back, leeching heat. It's funny, for someone with so much fire--in her magic, in her spirit, in her heart--Regina sure struggles with the temperature drop in the winter.  
  
She's not bothered. Even if it's for purposes of warmth, Emma relishes the closeness. As much as she feels the other woman should be wary still, her new favorite indulgence since she's woken has been quiet moments with Regina, pressed close and tucked away from the rest of the world.  
  
She just can't seem to stop touching her. Can't seem to find herself satisfied.  
  
"Even if I'm still having trouble believing it," she whispers, half hoping her words are soft enough to be missed, "I'm glad you're not scared. That the way I was- that it didn't ruin everything."  
  
For a long moment, Regina doesn't respond. Emma almost thinks she got her wish.  
  
Then-  
  
"Do you remember the other day when I met Gold for lunch?"  
  
The topic change is jarring. Emma's brow furrows. "Yeah?"  
  
"You came up." Regina's hands, warming now, move absently along her back. "Do you know what he asked me?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"He asked me how it felt being the most powerful person in all the known realms." There's a teasing lightness to Regina's voice that already has Emma anticipating a punchline. "I told him _you_ were."  
  
Emma snorts. "We both know you could easily kick my ass."  
  
"Mmm." Regina doesn't deny it and Emma's heart has never felt so full. "Gold agreed with me though. You're stronger than me physically. The potential of your magical ability, even without the curse bolstering it, is unlike anything we've seen. And yet," her dramatic pause for effect makes Emma smile, "I still reign supreme because I, apparently, have you wrapped around my finger."  
  
_I am not afraid._  
  
A watery laugh slips out of Emma. "I wouldn't say I'm _completely_ whipped, but-"  
  
"Yes you are."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
Grinning at Regina's answering laugh, Emma all but rolls into her, face pressed into her neck once again. It's where she belongs, like this, overwhelmed by Regina in every sense. "I promise I'll make sure you don't regret this," she whispers against her skin.  
  
"Emma? I-"  
  
But Emma doesn't want to hear a practiced, perfect response. She pulls back to kiss Regina. Smothering her automatic assurances. Swallowing them before they can be voiced. All Emma wants is Regina. This life with her in her house with their son in their town all together.

But she only wants what Regina is freely willing to give and it's just so hard to believe when-  
  
She knows Regina has a self sacrificing streak. She knows how hard she tries to always do the Right Thing now. She knows how deeply she cares for the people she loves. How selflessly. She knows how guilty Regina had felt over Emma's curse. How much she wanted to set things right. How-  
  
Regina pushes lightly at Emma's shoulder until she backs off. "Don't try to distract me." The smile is clear in her voice. Even with the seriousness of her tone. "We need to talk, Emma. We can't keep joking around about this. Tell me something. Please. Even if it's small."   
  
Emma swallows.  
  
"I don't care what it is," Regina pushes. "Just as long as it's real."  
  
"You kissed me and the curse broke." The words fall out of Emma before she can contain them. A full week rattling around in her brain and suddenly they're free. Out in the world, never to be taken back. The only way left is forward. "I know it's true," she says. "Real. I don't doubt it, but still- I can't stop thinking about how you know I'd fall apart without you." A shuddering, watery breath. "I'm terrified of living the rest of my life as your obligation."  
  
She can feel Regina tense against her, but the dam is broken and Emma finds herself unable to stop.  
  
"I feel like I made this grand gesture and backed you into a corner. Choose me or live with the guilt and I- I don't want to be that for you. I can't be that for you. I had that and I started to resent it so much. I was bitter and irritable and- And I felt so trapped and I can't- I can't be another person who traps you. I won't."  
  
"Emma," Regina's voice is slow and clear, "I cared about you before this curse. You know that right?"  
  
"Yeah. I know, I just- You were my friend, right? And maybe there could have been more, but that wasn't- You were my friend, and you were in love, and then suddenly I'm back and I need you and now, magically, you don't care about your soulmate. You're willing to throw that whole part of your life away no questions asked, neat and tidy. Just for me."  
  
"I see." Regina doesn't pull away, but she doesn't relax either. She lays, stiff, taut as her voice as she processes the confession. "I'm sorry."  
  
"You're-?" Emma strains to make out Regina's features through the darkness. She hadn't meant to upset Regina. Hadn't meant to accuse her.  
  
"I've been so focused on everything else--making sure you know how much your parents care, how much Henry needs the both of us, the void left in the town when you were gone--I assumed you would-" A heavy sigh. "Robin is- He made a lot of mistakes when it came to the two of us, but he's a good person, I think."  
  
"I loathed those mistakes." Emma can't help herself. "The worst of them would keep me up at night. Everything I swore I'd never do if I ever got the chance."  
  
Regina presses a kiss to her cheek, right at the corner of her lips. An absent gesture that would have been impossible just over a week ago. "That's just it. Everything from the beginning with him, it- It hurt me so much. Over and over again until I started to think maybe it was because that’s the best I deserve."  
  
Emma tightens around her, arms wrapped around Regina's waist in a way she hopes articulates...everything. Strength and comfort and support and, and love. All the love that's proved enough to obliterate demons.  
  
"You thought I was in love, Emma, but I was so tired." Her words are wet in a way that makes Emma ache. "It's exhausting, trying to feel gratitude for so much pain. Twisting your mind until you're thanking the universe for deigning to trample on your heart, because at least that means you're not being ignored. Contorting yourself because it's the only way you might get _something_ . A breadcrumb to cling to so you're not forced to go to bed hungry night after night."  
  
She twists in Emma's embrace until she's able to find Emma's hand, clings tightly to it with her own.   
  
"I was so lonely. I felt like I was drowning in front of you all, waving my arms and calling out while you just smiled and said how happy you were for me."   
  
"I'm sorry," Emma breathes. So much time wallowing, months in pain over feeling invisible and there Regina had been. Alone and hurting while Emma felt too sorry for herself to notice.  
  
"Don't be. Now, because of you, I get to lie here without any doubts about what I deserve. Because it should never be about that all. This, us, I don't have to look at love like a reward to earn or some twisted punishment to endure. It's only what it is, good, like it's meant to be. For the first time in my life, there are no strings attached. I never dared to think that I- That any love from someone like me might be pure enough to break a curse. But somehow, I've been so lucky in the relationships I've been granted that I broke two.  
  
"And now I get to sit here, certain that-" She hums, amusement and nostalgia and a tangible peace that has Emma enraptured, unable to do anything but hold her, greedily absorbing every word she's gifted. "Of the people that have professed their love to me in my life, romantic and otherwise, from my mother to my father to Robin to the king, I've only felt certainty in very few instances. It's been so long since I was a girl sneaking out to the stables, but now, at last, I'm able to lie here without fear."  
  
Regina shifts and her fingers find Emma's hair. Combing through the long strands with a gentle reverence Emma can scarcely believe she deserves. "Even when all the odds were stacked against us, you still found yourself incapable of hurting me. I don't have the words to express just what that means to me, Emma. How novel that is in my life. It stills hardly feels real."  
  
"And when that novelty fades?" Emma rasps, eyes squeezed shut tight.  
  
Regina is quiet for a moment. Then, "All I know is that I waited two months for you to wake up so I could be with you here, just like this, even once. Don't take this away from me because you're arrogant enough to assume what I might want a month from now, a year from now, in ten years. I've had enough choices stolen from me for one lifetime."  
  
"I didn't mean-" Emma's defense quiets when Regina's lips find her cheek again.  
  
"Trust me," Regina murmurs against her skin, "please, the way I trust you."  
  
"There's nobody I trust more," Emma promises without hesitation.  
  
"Good. Prove it."  
  
When they kiss, Emma can still feel it all the way to her core, just like the first time. Just like every time. That warmth, that light that goes beyond infatuation or affection.  
  
Comfort. Safety. Understanding. Connection.  
  
Pure, unhampered connection in a way she's never known in all her life. And Emma is certain as they move together, pressing as close as they possibly can, were there one to break, any curse would shatter into dust.  
  
She's not good at this, love. Never had much practice beyond her son. Not romantically. Not with the intensity of these confessions or the earnestness of these declarations or such open romanticism. She's always been more reserved in her affection. More private about what she's feeling and just how deep it runs. 

But even if all she can offer is some awkward, stilted stuttering, Emma has to suck it up because any declaration she might utter isn’t even a fraction of what Regina deserves.

"You were the only thing that kept me sane." She keeps their foreheads pressed together so she can feel Regina breathing between them, mingling with her own. "They hated you, you made it so hard, but in the same moment you made me want to snap, I'd look at you and it was like I was myself again." She instinctively grips Regina tighter at the memory. "I could breathe. I could laugh. I- I couldn't be around you. They made it so hard. But I had to be because-"  
  
Emma hesitates, just for a moment. A couple years ago, she'd be too uncomfortable to do this. In some ways, she still is. Embarrassed to think of herself as cheesy. Sappy. Scared to indulge in romance and not be met in the middle.  
  
Regina, though--who checks in through text message every hour as Emma readjusts at the station, who bakes comforting desserts and listens to every insecurity and stays with Emma on the phone when the images left over in her mind are too twisted to sleep, who keeps vigil at Emma's bedside when she's exhausted to her core in battle and chases all the darkness from Emma's very being with a single kiss--won’t just be meeting her.

She’s already been there, waiting. All this time.  
  
"You were the catalyst," Emma tells her, "but, even before you kissed me, you were always the cure."  
  
When Emma moves to kiss her again, Regina matches her not with desperate passion, but with a firm insistence. This coupling, it says, isn’t merely some exchange of sacrifices.

“I’m where I want to be,” she promises. “I’ll tell you every day until you believe it.” 

For the first time in a long time, when Emma dreams of Regina, she knows only peace.


End file.
